Nighttime thoughts
by Vault-Emblem
Summary: - Come on!-, Dante exclaimed, not aware of what his brother was thinking, - It's just a pyjama party. We used to do them a lot when we were kids, remember?- [AU where Dante saves Vergil at the end of Dmc3]


**Nighttime thoughts**

\- This is the stupidest thing I've ever done- Vergil said, with an irritated frown on his face.

\- Mmh... are you sure? There are so many other things that you should consider "the stupidest"-, Dante deadpanned, with a stupid grin on his stupid face.

His twin opened his mouth to reply, only to stop himself almost immediately.

Getting worked up for him would only give him a big headache; it wasn't worth it. After all, if they had started an argument he would have gone on and on about how he should be grateful since he had saved him when he had decided to fall into the demon world.

"I haven't even asked you to do that", Vergil retorted, in his mind, as if the other could hear him.

\- Come on!-, Dante exclaimed, not aware of what his brother was thinking, - It's just a pyjama party. We used to do them a lot when we were kids, remember?-.

* * *

Of course he remembered.

They used to sleep in the same bed a lot, when they were younger. After the disappearance of their father, Dante took the habit to go to Vergil's room, to seek his brother's presence, which was enough to comfort him from his fears and nightmares.

Their mother, of course, had noticed it, but he had dismissed those nighttime encounters as sleepovers between brothers. It was clear that she was finding it difficult to deal with their current situation, so he didn't want to add his problems to the list of her worries.

And, despite the initial annoyance, little Vergil started to enjoy those "pyjama parties" as well; he liked being so close to his twin. It was like they were something special, a secret, between the two of them. He had felt that, as long as they were together, and their mother was watching over them, everything was going to be alright.

How foolish he had been, and because of that they had lost everything.

* * *

\- Hey, Vergil! Are you listening to me?-, Dante said, waving his hand in front of his face to snap him out whatever he was thinking about.

After a moment of surprise, his brother regained immediately his typical collected behaviour.

\- As you said, we were kids at the time. My point still stands-, he insisted.

Dante rolled his eyes. He knew that he would have reacted that way; still he had decided to propose that idea anyways.

Since he had held his twin's hand, keeping him from falling down in the demon world, he had been thinking about his relationship with his brother and his feelings for him.

It would have been so much easier if he just hated him: he wouldn't have felt the urge to save him, nor to try to fix their broken bond. It didn't look like Vergil was making any effort to help him either; he didn't know if it was because he was still trying to make order in his head or because he had decided to shelter himself in his pride forever.

He just wished he was more honest with himself and him.

* * *

-What happened to us?- he murmured, almost like he was talking to himself and not to his brother, who stayed silent, not because he was afraid of speaking, but because he didn't know how to say it, how to voice the process that ended with their path not crossing again until a few months ago.

* * *

When Dante rejected his demonic heritage, he had not only been shocked, but he had also felt betrayed. He couldn't understand why would he have wanted to do something like that; didn't he know that it was the only way to survive? Their mother was a human and she was dead, so why not aim for more?

Of course he never spoke with his brother about any of that. He had given up on trying to make him reason; it would have been useless – he knew Dante was a very stubborn person- and it would have also slowed him down.

* * *

If he had been stronger, nothing of the bad things that they had to experience would have ever happened.

He needed to push his limits; he needed to become more like his father.

He needed more power.

* * *

He had trained and trained and trained, always seeking new challenges that could have helped him to improve; he had left out everything useless to him, including his feelings, too "human" and dangerous, which could have gotten in his way.

Still, Dante had defeated him.

It was a matter of fact, and that was what made Vergil question himself, even for a brief moment, for the second time, that day – the first one had been when he had taken Dante's medallion after their fight at the Temen-ni-gru, but the plan was already ongoing, he couldn't hesitate, he couldn't let his insecurities stop him, not now that he was so close, so close to obtain what was rightfully his.

* * *

He was ready to let everything go.

He had told his brother to leave that place, or he would have ended up like him.

There was still hope for Dante; as for him, maybe... maybe he would have found what he was looking for in the demon's world. It was their father's home, after all.

* * *

He somehow felt at peace once he hadn't felt anymore the ground under his feet; he didn't know what his future had in store for him, but he didn't have any regrets. He had chosen that fate.

* * *

And now, there he was, stuck with his foolish brother and his foolish ideas, which were making him want to stab him with Yamato countless times until he was finally left alone.

He could guess why he wanted to do something like that – a sleepover, for "the ol' times' sake", as Dante said- so badly; after all, only he could give such a great importance for such trivial matters, such as brotherly bonding.

It wasn't like when they argued when they were younger; too many things had happened between them, things that had changed them entirely, making them two different, if not opposite, persons.

* * *

He just wanted to sleep, and that was what he told to Dante; if he had been asleep, his proximity with him wouldn't have been a problem, especially because he still didn't know how to feel about his initiative of "saving him"– he had no say in that matter, and that irritated him to no end. It was also true, however, that it was useless, a simple waste of time, mooning about what couldn't be changed anymore.

As he laid down, he could have sworn that he had heard him muttering a "coward" under his breath and, while a part of him was tempted to summon a sword and stab him in his mouth for such insolence, on the other hand he couldn't help but to agree.

He was, indeed, being a coward, pretending to be soulless, always rejecting his feelings and running away from them, instead of facing them.

For a moment, he thought about his brother; everything was so easy for him. He hated that.

* * *

Dante stared at the sleeping figure – if he was really asleep- beside him. He couldn't believe that Vergil's face was able to relax that much; he looked almost... serene.

He wondered how long it would have taken for him to make a face like that even when he was awake, admitting that he was going to do it sooner or later; it was also true that, if he never stopped to scowl, he would have gotten wrinkles all over his face soon, despite his young age.

* * *

Were things going to be better, from that moment? He didn't know, but Vergil was there; he hadn't vanished as soon as they had left the tower. That had to mean something, he hoped.

* * *

All right, now it was a good time to stop; he had had enough amount of deep thinking for that day.

He laid down on his side, facing his brother; it wasn't the most comfortable position in the world – they weren't kids anymore, and the bed was quite small for both of them- but he could manage.

He closed his eyes and, after not so much time, he was already snoring.

* * *

The first one to wake up was Vergil.

As he slowly opened his eyes, he immediately noticed something: Dante's hand was right on his, their fingers intertwined together. He didn't know if he had done that on purpose or if it had happened while they were both asleep, however, he didn't move.

He was definitely going to blame the numbness of the morning, once he would have been fully awake, but for now, he was just going to continue to hold Dante's hand and pretend to be still asleep when his brother was going to wake up.

* * *

It was almost like they had returned to be little kids again.

Who knew, maybe his younger self was right; maybe, until they were going to be together, they could have worked it through.

It was a reassuring thought, but Vergil wasn't sure he was ready to fully accept it.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Hello, thanks for reading this, I hope you liked it!

I've decided to write this because I couldn't stand Dmc3 ending. I just... I don't know, I can't even think about the last mission that I get sad thoughts. So I wanted to write something happier, where Dante is able to keep Vergil from falling in the demon word.

Ok, it's not really the happiest thing I could write, but I wanted to concentrate on their thoughts on each other. I'll porbably write more of this, but I don't know when and if I'll do it.

I don't even know if I'll do something like a series, or if I'll publish them separately. By the way, if you have some ideas, something that you would like to see, in this sort of AU (even something shippy), let me know.

That's all, for now, see you next time! **\- Feeldespair**


End file.
